


Everybody Loves Ianto

by Pennyplainknits



Category: Stargate Atlantis, Torchwood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-30
Updated: 2009-12-30
Packaged: 2017-10-05 12:25:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pennyplainknits/pseuds/Pennyplainknits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beta'd by <a href="http://countess7.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://countess7.livejournal.com/"><b>countess7</b></a>.  Any remaining mistakes are my own fault!</p><p>This fic was written for <a href="http://sandrainthesun.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://sandrainthesun.livejournal.com/"><b>sandrainthesun</b></a> as part of the  <a href="http://oxoniensis.livejournal.com/367156.html">Fall Fandom Free for All</a> hosted by <a href="http://oxoniensis.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://oxoniensis.livejournal.com/"><b>oxoniensis</b></a> and <a href="http://pheebs1.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://pheebs1.livejournal.com/"><b>pheebs1</b></a>.  She requested <i>Stargate Atlantis/Torchwood, Ianto on Atlantis, efficient, makes great coffee and has UST with Rodney, jealous John</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everybody Loves Ianto

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer** Stargate: Atlantis and Torchwood are the properties of MGM and the BBC. This work of derivative fiction written for pleasure, not profit, and no infringement is intended.
> 
> Now as a podfic by reena_jenkins [here](http://reena-jenkins.livejournal.com/25832.html#cutid2)!

Most people, when they beam down into the Atlantis Gate Room for the first time, have one of three reactions: open-mouthed awe, wide-eyed terror, or throwing up. (They've never figured out why the beaming technology affects some people that way, but John's learnt to have buckets handy just in case.)

The new people for this rotation seem to be favouring open-mouthed awe, John notices as he stands with Woolsey and Rodney to welcome the new arrivals. All except one neat, dark-haired man who stands a little apart from the rest. While all the others are oohing and ahhing he wears a placid expression of faint interest. Despite the long journey his uniform is spotless and uncreased, his hair is perfect. He's even carrying a _briefcase_ for god's sake.

The weirdness continues when Woolsey breaks out into an honest-to-goodness smile and pushes past John, calling

"Ianto! Ianto Jones!"

The guy-Ianto, John supposes, and what the hell kind of name is that?-looks up and smiles, moving toward them.

"Richard! It's good to see you Sir," he says in an odd sing-song accent.

Woolsey takes his hand in a double hand clasp and shakes it heartily. John's never seen him so pleased to see anyone and that includes that time they rescued him from the Asurans.

"Ianto, welcome to Atlantis. Colonel Sheppard, Doctor McKay, this is Ianto Jones."

Ianto shakes hands with them both, brief, businesslike, but friendly.

"Colonel. Doctor."

"Science team, or military?" Rodney asks.

"Do you even _read_ the manifests McKay?" asks John.

"Like _that's_ a good use of my time. Come on, which are you? Soldier, or Scientist?"

Ianto flickers a glance up and down Rodney's body. It's subtle and Rodney of course completely misses it, but John doesn't. Ianto just _checked Rodney out_. As an habitual McKay checker-outer himself he knows it when he sees it.

"Administration," Ianto says mildly, and that's that.

*****

Except that Ianto is obviously more than just administration. He's Welsh, and comes from some shadowy organisation that's only barely hinted at in his file. He scores a perfect round on his firearms training and is unbothered by any of the tales of Wraith or the other horrors of Pegasus, muttering something about pterodactyls and the living dead that John is only partly sure is a joke. He clearly has a history with Woolsey, shadowing him at meetings and ready with the right document or report or spreadsheet almost before Woolsey asks for it.

He works quiet miracles of organisation- within a week he has completely overhauled the shared drive so that people can actually find mission reports and city surveys without trawling through a dozen referencing systems. Within three weeks the requisition system actually works and people have a better than even chance of getting non-essential (non-military) stuff the same week they asked for it.

"Ianto, I think I love you," Keller proclaims, as she signs off for the bandages and supports.

"I just give them out Doctor Keller-"

"Jennifer,"

"Jennifer," he continues. "It's really only a matter of knowing where everything is, and seeing it gets to where it needs to be."

John's been here 5 years and he still doesn't know where half the supplies go. He wonders how Ianto does.

****

Lorne takes to him on sight-Ianto has XO written all over him. He immediately takes on most of the non-military paperwork Lorne has ended up with because John hates it and Rodney flatly refuses to do it. He sets up a laptop in the corner of Lorne's office and promptly dives into years of accumulated salary paperwork, leave requests, and incident reports. Soon they are laughing and joking like old friends and making plans to go on a sketching trip to the mainland as soon as possible.

"He's great Sir," Lorne babbles excitedly. "I have a third of the paperwork I normally do, _and_ he found those two dozen pairs of new boots that went missing."

John just nods, unsmiling. He can't work out where this antipathy comes from. The man is neat, quiet, efficient and seemingly everyone loves him, but there's still something that rankles John, going right back to the 'gate room that first day.

****

"May I sit here?"

John looks up from his stew to see Ianto standing in front of him.

"Sure," he says. He really should make the effort he thinks, and really, everything has been running much smoothly since he got here.

"Will you introduce me to your team Colonel? I don't think I've met them all properly yet."

John gestures.

"Doctor Rodney McKay, but you've met already."

"Only briefly. Toshiko Sato sends her love, Doctor."

Rodney grins. "Tosh! I bet she didn't actually."

Ianto leans forward so he's talking only to Rodney and says confidentially.

"Well actually she said 'tell that arrogant bastard hello, if you must, and I'm still winning a Nobel before him.'"

Rodney smiles wider and leans in too, cutting John out of the conversation whether he means to or not.

"That sounds more like it. Tell me, does Tosh still-"

"Maybe you two can continue the love-in later?" John interrupts, suddenly, irrationally, wanting Ianto's attention _off_ of Rodney.

"For heaven's sake Sheppard, what's the matter with you?" Rodney snaps. "Ianto- why don't you drop by the lab later?"

"I'd enjoy that," Ianto says, voice dipping low and intimate.

John's just about to say something he'll probably regret when Teyla introduces herself.

"I am Teyla Emmagen and this-" she gestures to the moses basket-"is my son Torren. Asleep, for once."

"Pleased to meet you Teyla." Ianto says, shaking her hand.

"And this is the last member of our team." John says as Ronon joins them. Ianto looks up, and further up.

"Specialist Ronon Dex I presume?" he asks faintly.

"Yeah. You're the guy that's put Woolsey in such a good mood." Ronon states.

"I try. Excuse me." He leans past Ronon to yell to one of the New Zealand SAS.

"Hey, Howlett! I know you must have a rugby team-is this guy on it? 'cause here's your number 8 sure as anything."

Howlett, a man so stocky he's practically square, replies,

"We did, but _someone_ misjudged a lineout on the pier and we lost our last ball." He glares at one of the Argentinian airman he's eating with.

"Well," says Ianto in what John feels is an unnecessarily smug fashion "I may be able to help you there."

****

Which is how John, against his better judgement, finds himself watching a mixed bag of military and science staff, plus Ianto and Ronon, engage in what looks less like a sport than all-in mud wrestling out on the mainland.

"You won't play football but you'll play this?" he asks as Ronon ties up his dreads.

"Sure, it looks way better. These guys don't need helmet or all that padding. Should be good."

"That's because rugby is god's way of sorting the men from the boys." Ianto looks _tiny_ next to Ronon, and John has a momentary pang of unease (he may not like the guy but he doesn't want him flattened) as Ianto tosses the ball to Howlett and the game gets underway.

He needn't have worried.

"Damn, he's good," Rodney says avidly, coming to stand next to John.

"Is he?" John asked sourly.

"Oh yeah, see- he's linking the backs with the pack well and he's not afraid to commit to the tackle." Rodney watches approvingly as Ianto brings down one of the French Troupes de Marines who John happens to know weighs at least 250 pounds.

"How the hell do you know so much about this?" John asks, trying to draw Rodney's attention away from Ianto in his short shorts.

"It's a niche sport in Canada, but I always rather enjoyed it-HEY! FORWARD PASS!"

John gives up getting anything useful out of Rodney, and sulks for the rest of the game.

Afterwards Ianto joins them, muddy and sweaty and with a gash over one eye.

"Good game," Rodney says, handing him a bottle of water.

"Thanks. You should play next time," Ianto suggests.

"How did you-?"

Ianto reached out a muddy hand and trails his fingers lightly across Rodney's shoulders. It makes John want to hit things.

"These have to come from somewhere," Ianto says, drawing his hand slowly away.

As Rodney's eyes dilate John thinks:

'I'm so screwed.'

******

He doesn't realise just how screwed until several days later, hanging out in the lab with Rodney

"It's a shame Ianto's gene therapy didn't take," Rodney remarks tapping away at his laptop.

"Well it's not like he _needs_ it. What's it gonna do, make his paperwork go faster?" John scoffs.

"What's the matter with you?" Rodney asks.

John is spared having to explain by the arrival of the man himself, carrying-

"Is that coffee?" Rodney asks, eyeing the filter pot on the tray.

"Well, you're all hard at work, and I've never known an office-or a lab-that didn't run mostly on coffee."

"We have coffee," Radek gestures to the coffee pot on the counter.

Ianto picks up the pot. It makes a slight thunking sound as the liquid moves sluggishly.

"You may have _had_ coffee. I think what you have now is best described as sludge. Possibly tar."

"You quickly learn to drink anything out here," Rodney explains, listing towards the fresh pot.

"Well, once you've had my coffee, there's no going back," Ianto says, pouring Rodney a cup.

"You talk a good game, but can you deliver?" Rodney asks, and goddammit, John thinks, he's _flirting_.

"Try me and find out." Ianto offers Rodney the cup. He takes it, fingers brushing over Ianto's and John can't tear his eyes away.

Rodney sniffs the steam, sips and swallows, then

"Oh _GOD_," he groans, a guttural moan. "Mmmm. _GOD_, that's so good."

With sudden, startling clarity John realises _'this is what Rodney must sound like when he's having sex'_.

"Well," Ianto says, as Rodney continues to nurse his cup, making little whimpering moans, "I've never had _quite_ that reaction before."

Rodney looks up from his cup, wide-eyed and pink cheeked.

"That's it, we're keeping you."

Ianto perches on the edge of Rodney's desk.

"Are you going to make it worth my while?" he asks, voice light and teasing.

"You want an office?-take Radek's"

Ianto reaches behind Rodney to pick up his empty cup, leaning down to speak directly in Rodney's ear.

"That's not quite the incentive I was thinking of."

Rodney smiles, slowly.

"Well, I'm sure we can-negotiate."

John's about to yell 'hands off my scientist!' when Rodney's laptop pings, drawing his attention from Ianto, and onto safer trains of thought. John lets out a breath. That was a narrow escape.

*****

Except that it isn't, really. Suddenly it seems as if everywhere John goes he sees Ianto. Sitting opposite Ronon in the mess, eating pudding. Singing Torren to sleep as Teyla looks on, enchanted. Sipping tea with Woolsey. Holding court with a group of fawning Chemists ('Oh _Ianto_, you accent is so sexy'). Running around on the makeshift rugby pitch in his little shorts and red jersey, with half of Atlantis cheering from the sidelines.

Every time he drops by to see Rodney in the lab Ianto is there, perched on the counter and swinging his legs; leaning in to look at the screen with his hand on Rodney's shoulder; sitting and cataloguing the ancient gadgets. It's always Ianto, Ianto and his orgasmic coffee, coffee that makes Rodney shudder and sigh and moan the way John wants to make him. The way he imagines alone late at night, own hand on his cock, and Rodney's blue eyes the last thing he sees in his mind's eye before he comes.

****

"You wanted me Rodney?" John asks from the door of Rodney's lab. Ianto, as always these days, hovers in the background.

"Yes, Colonel, I need your gene. Press here."

Rodney hands him a smooth, glassy egg shape. John presses on the dip at the equator of the egg, and thinks 'on'. The egg splits into two, small blades inside the egg whir, and John gets an image of-smoothies?

"I think it's a blender," John says.

"Here," Ianto hands him a banana from god-knows where. "Try it out."

John shrugs, but peels the banana, slices it into the egg with his combat knife, and hands it to Rodney.

"Sheppard! Close it!" Rodney says, but it's to late, the egg spurts bits of chopped banana all over him.

"Yes Colonel, thank you very much," Rodney says disgustedly.

"Here," Ianto pulls out a pocket handkerchief. "Let me."

He cups Rodney's chin and dabs at the banana pulp, concentrating, dragging the cloth so gently he's less wiping, more caressing Rodney's face.

Something inside John snaps. He glares at Ianto, who drops his hand quickly.

"McKay. A word." John grits out.

"What?" Rodney sounds puzzled.

"Now. A word. Excuse us Ianto." John says, aware he's possibly being rude but not really caring. He grabs Rodney by the wrist and hauls him to his feet, hustling him out of the lab. He ignores Rodney's loud protests, herding him down the corridor and into Rodney's barely-used office. He thinks three levels of locks onto the doors and drops Rodney's wrist.

Rodney rubs his wrist and turns to glare furiously at him.

"What the fuck is your problem Sheppard?"

"_He's_ the problem."

Rodney huffs. "He's not the one dragging me out of my own lab like an insane person!"

"He's always, with the _touching_ and the-" John slides into incoherence, because he really, really doesn't want to lay out his pathetic, jealous crush. Unfortunately, Rodney's part bulldog and just won't let go.

"And the what Sheppard?" Rodney takes a step closer.

"And the flirting." John mumbles.

"And the what?" Rodney asks again.

"The flirting," John says, barely any louder.

"Flirting?" Rodney says, almost as quietly.

John watches as Rodney's face goes from puzzled, to enlightened, to annoyed.

The punch on the biceps is more unexpected than painful.

"That's for being an idiot. Honestly I didn't figure you for the pining type." Rodney says.

He wasn't, not before Rodney.

"And this," Rodney steps right up close and tugs John forward by the shoulders. "Is to make it all better."

Rodney's mouth is warm and sweet, moving carefully on his. When John gasps "oh!" Rodney slides his tongue alongside John's, and John thinks 'the hell with careful' slipping his hands round Rodney, one at the small of his back, the other one up to the nape of his neck, holding him just right to kiss and kiss and kiss. Rodney obviously thinks this is the best idea _ever_ because suddenly John's got Rodney's hands on his ass and Rodney's thigh between his. Rodney's kisses are deep and intoxicating and just about the best thing John's ever felt with his clothes on.

In the tiny corner of his mind not taken up with working out how to get the two of them naked and horizontal at the earliest opportunity (and when Rodney squeezes his ass and sucks on his tongue he's suddenly not too fussed about horizontal) he give the spectre of Ianto Jones the finger.

****

Now that he knows Ianto's not a scientist-stealing he-wench, John discovers he actually likes the guy. He keeps Lorne and Woolsey happy, which makes John's job easier. He still supplies excellent coffee, but now John gets his share too. He even convinces Rodney to play rugby, once, and John finds the sight of a sweaty Rodney in tight shorts more than payback for an afternoon watching an incomprehensible sport. Ianto, in short, is an Atlantean Jeeves, and John soon can't imagine how they got on without him.

Much like most things in Pegasus , it's too good to last.

****

They're hanging out on the South Pier, enjoying the sun, away from prying eyes. Rodney, after much complaining and the application of copious amounts of sunscreen, steals John's comic book and leans against the wall, seeking shade. John's just about to suggest opening the beer when there's a strange mechanical sound, as of pumps and gears, and a blue garden shed appears at the end of the pier _out of thin air_.

John taps his radio

"Security team to the South Pier. Now."

"Colonel, what's the emergency?" Woolsey asks.

"There's-it looks like a blue garden shed. It just-appeared," John explains.

Rodney pushes himself up.

"May I remind you we have shields and scanners. Things can't just _appear_."

John just points to where the light on top of the box has stopped flashing. Ianto's voice comes over the comm.

"Don't worry Colonel. I'll be there in a bit, but it's not a threat."

The team, Woolsey and Ianto come running out of the transporter just as the door of the box opens. John's hand goes to his sidearm automatically, and he shifts to stand in front of Rodney.

"I promise Colonel, there's nothing to worry about." Ianto says, but he looks grim.

The man that steps out of the box is almost ridiculously good looking. Brown hair, smoothly parted and combed. Square jaw and a dimple in his chin. Bright, bright blue eyes. He's wearing a blue shirt, suspenders on his pants, and a long blue coat that he has the height and breadth to carry off. Around one wrist is a brown leather wristband that John immediately covets.

Ianto strides forward.

"Jack! What did you do?"

The man-Jack-grins a grin full of dirty promises and cocks a thumb at the box.

"Borrowed a friend's ride."

"I'm sorry," Rodney pushes past John and Ianto. "Are you saying that this _contraption_ travels through space?"

Jack shakes Rodney's hand and gives him another killer smile.

"Captain Jack Harkness. And it can do a lot more than that Blue Eyes."

John's getting pretty sick of hot earthers hitting on his scientist.

"Jack." Ianto says hotly "What are you doing here, and more importantly, did you _steal_ the TARDIS?"

"More like borrowed." Jack smiles, an I'm-too-cute-to-yell-at-smile, and John knows that look, he's _used_ that look, but he is clearly in the presence of a master.

"B-borrowed?" Ianto looks thunderstruck.

"Hey, I had to get here somehow. How else was I going to bring you home?"

"But- I-you." It's the first time John's seen Ianto lost for words. Jack seems to see it too, because he steps right up close to Ianto and runs a hand down his arm.

"Yeah," he says quietly. "Come home Ianto."

Ianto leans into Jack so his lips are a hairs breadth from his.

"You-" Ianto begins, before Jack leads forward and kisses him, slow and through, both hands framing his face.

"Shit." Rodney breathes beside him.

"Oh yeah." John agrees. He has Rodney, but he's not _blind_, and the two men are hot, and clearly at home with each other kissing with an intense kind of familiarity. There's clearly a story there.

Woolsey's cough has Ianto pulling away slightly, lips bitten and red.

"So, Ianto. I'm guessing this is why you only signed on for one rotation?"

"What?" Jack asks, not letting Ianto go.

Ianto kisses him again. "Yes, He'll only get into trouble otherwise."

Jack looks sheepish, but unrepentant.

"Well we could make some mischief here," he offers.

"Behave, Jack."

Ianto shakes Woolsey's hand.

"Richard, it's been a pleasure. Rodney, John, take care."

Jack calls from the door of the TARDIS

"C'mon Ianto. We're losing time!"

"Not funny sir!" Ianto calls back.

"Seriously? A Time Machine?" Rodney asks. Ianto just laughs, shakes his hand, then John's and steps into the box. The light flashes once, twice, and disappears.

****

They all stand staring at the space it occupied until John shakes his head.

"OK guys, stand down. I'm going to enjoy what's left of my day off."

"Very wise Colonel. I'll debrief you later," Woolsey says, and he and the security team head back into the city.

Rodney bends down to gather up the comic and sunscreen.

"I'll miss the coffee," is all he says.

"Ronon'll miss you in the weekly free for all- unless you're going to keep playing?"

"Once was definitely enough," Rodney groans, standing up and rubbing his side, where John knows there is still a sizable bruise.

"Shame. I liked you in those shorts," John says, blatantly staring at Rodney's ass.

Rodney turns round to look at John, his cheeks pink, then smirks.

"Well, I still have them. I can still wear them- nothing saying I have to play rugby in them."

"So if I was to come to your room in, say, five minutes?"

"There's a very good chance, yes."

John pulls him close and kisses him quickly, risking it, and they're laughing as they walk towards the transporter.

 

END


End file.
